I was dead. Twenty foot swells tossed my boat around like a leaf in a windstorm. I knew our boat was going to go under and we would sink.

Daydreaming about the calming, bright sunlight nearly made me cry. If only I had a time machine to bring me back two hours, I would be safe in my beach house eating toast while owning my friends in the card game “setback”. My mind suddenly switched back to the life threatening experience out at sea. If only my dingy didn’t have gas, or my dog was sick, or my mom was too scared, I wouldn’t be stranded on a boat six miles off shore.

I watched some sand worms sink into the sand which was turning my feet red. Our goal was to drive to Block Island on our new 28 foot Sea Ray. At 10 a.m. when we left shore on our dingy the sun toasted and the the ocean whistled. We could see Block Island (at the time) as I carefully steered our gray and black West Marine toward our larger motor boat. My brother dove towards a hook on the Sea Ray and barely grasped the handle with the tips of his fingers. My mom and sister, on the other hand, just watched as the male members of our family frantically scrambled around trying to prevent us from drifting away from the Sea Ray.

First the boys unsnapped the cloth cover of the boat. Then my dad and I aired out the engine so it would not explode. When I was very young I always wondered why my dad had to lift the engine to cover for a couple of minutes before boosting it up, but he soon taught me why. As we guided our boat through the break wall, the choppy waves started punching the bow and splashing my goose-bump covered legs. My arms, on the other hand, were covered by my grandmothers navy blue hoody. The fluffy, soft, and smooth cotton soothed my shivery skin and felt like clouds. I watched my mom turn green as we dropped like a ball of steel from an immense swell. She always asks me how the fishermen in ten foot boats drift around all day far out at sea. I knew my mom wouldn’t try to do that for a million dollars. Maybe a billion, but no, not a million.

With about five miles gone and four to remain, the winds picked up speed and the water became fierce. We decided it would be much quicker to continue our journey to Block Island than to turn around and head home. At first the boat filled with one inch of water, then two, then faster and faster, three, five. I then got a sinking feeling.